


The Scars We Carry

by snarkysweetness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Comfort Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkysweetness/pseuds/snarkysweetness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two sides to every story and Seamus Finnigan is no exception. In the public eye he is a Quidditch star and the most eligible bachelor. But is that all there is to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scars We Carry

Seamus Finnigan was the new Harry Potter. Sure, he may not have survived the killing curse-twice, or defeated the darkest wizard of them all, but he’d won the Kenmare Kestrels two World Cups and he was _the_ Quidditch Star of the decade. Harry Potter had nothing on Seamus Finnigan.

Aside from the random, nostalgic articles on the war, Harry Potter was left alone. No one cared about him anymore. He was just some guy who had won a war who was settled down with a wife and kids and who was boring. No one wanted to read about boring.

What people wanted to read about was Seamus Finnigan. The gossip rags couldn’t get enough of him. Starting Seeker, world famous, and boy was he sexy. A girl could wash her panties off of his six-pack. He was England and Ireland’s most eligible bachelor, three years running. Along with his sidekick, world renowned Auror, Dean Thomas, he was the perfect fit for the ultimate ladies’ man.

Or so one would think. The thing about gossip? It usually isn’t true.

There are two sides to every story and in Seamus Finnigan’s case, there was no exception to that rule.

Seamus could have any woman that he wanted, true, but he didn’t. He was the most eligible bachelor, but he didn’t like to think of himself as one.

He was good on a broomstick. Fact.

Playing along with the media kept him famous, helped him maintain a good paycheck, and made him a household name. Another fact.

The final fact?

He loathed every moment of it. Sure, he loved Quidditch, but the Seamus portrayed in the media held nothing to the real Seamus. The fake Seamus was just something for his friends to laugh about. Especially Harry who was grateful to have the attention on someone else for a change.

Seamus put up with it because he loved the sport. If he didn’t, he’d tell them all to go fuck themselves.

Slipping through the back exit of the pub, Seamus let out a sigh of relief. He’d survived yet another night of vultures. Press parties were a painful, but necessary part of his job. Seamus would show up, get in some pictures, and then sneak away as quickly as possible.

There was only one place that Seamus wanted to be at night and that was at home.

Shrugging off his coat, Seamus flicked the lights on, glancing around. Crap. Turning lights on as he made his way through his large flat he mentally prepared himself, already knowing what to expect. Lights off meant a bad mood. If alcohol was somehow involved with this bad mood it meant extra feelings of insecurity. He was really hoping that he found her sober, though, he highly doubted it.

His girl was a vapid, self-loathing drunk.

She had no reason to be, she was the most beautiful. Always had been, always would be. War scars didn’t change that. Not with him. He loved her as she was; imperfections and all. Hell, he loved her more for them, but she refused to see things his way. So when he went outs she stayed behind even though all he wanted to do was to show her off.

Though, telling her that somehow made things worse.

He couldn’t win, but he was too in love to mind losing.

Lavender Brown had been the love of his life since he was sixteen years old. No amount of groupies flinging themselves at him would change that. Lavender just didn’t love him enough to believe that and that stung, deeply.

“You’re too beautiful to be sitting alone in the dark with a bottle of Tequilla.” Seamus was in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching her. Even with the frowny pout that was currently on her face along with a scowl here and there, she was the most beautiful thing in the world. The scars from the werewolf attack weren’t even noticeable anymore. They were just a part of her now. A sign of her courage; which he loved. Who wouldn’t want a woman who could take on Fenrir Greyback and live to tell the tale?

“You’re back early.” She took another drink.

He withheld a sigh. Yup. One of _those_ moods.

He towered over her for a moment before forcibly taking the bottle of Cazadores from her hand. She could at least have chosen a better brand; he could afford it.

As much as he would love to be the kind of man who could ask her if she’d had enough and judge her, he wasn’t. Instead he sat next her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Pulling her close, he kissed the top of her blond head, waiting a moment before speaking.

“I can’t have fun without you there, you know that, Lav.”

Lavender looked down, almost guiltily. “No one wants to see you with me on your arm.”

“I do.” He kissed her temple, trying to get her to look at him. “You’re all I want.”

“What about the little twits who throw themselves at you?”

“I have more self-respect than that. Besides, I love you.”

“Why?”

“Because, you’re Lavender. Because you cried for a week over a bunny, because you don’t back down, because you could kick my arse if you wanted to. Because you can be ditzy and smart at the same time and because scars or no scars, you’re the most beautiful thing in this world.”

She looked up at him, her upper lip firm. “Scars or no scars?”

“They make you even more beautiful. I know no one can mess with my girl,” he assured, kissing her nose.

She smiled, a half-smile, but it was better than nothing. He’d been expecting more of a fight, it seemed she needed her ego stroked tonight more than anything. Good, he hated fighting with anyone who wasn’t Potter.

“Will you prove it to me?”

That invitation was all he needed. As if he’d say ‘no’ to her. Lifting her chin, Seamus placed a tender kiss on her lips before moving his fingers into her hair, releasing the clip that held it up. As her hair spilled over her back, Seamus broke the kiss, watching as she shook it out, the locks framing her face, somehow highlighting her beauty. All of the women in the world couldn’t compare to the way she looked in that moment; vulnerable yet powerful at the same time. She needed to feel like a woman, but she held control over him. It was incredibly sexy.

Pulling her in for another kiss, Seamus made slow work of taking off her clothing, making sure to touch her everywhere. He liked to take his time. Life was short and he didn’t want to miss anything.

Once she was undressed, Seamus placed a trail of kisses over her collarbone, stopping at one of her many scars, making sure to leave a lingering one there. His eyes roamed her body making sure to catch her gaze when he finished so that she knew how much he appreciated the view.

Seamus tossed his shirt over his head, still watching her. She was biting her lip in anticipation, as if they’d never done this before. There was such a subtle innocence to her that almost broke his heart.

Slipping off his boxers, Seamus slowly lowered her onto their bed, his lips immediately going for the tops of her breasts. She was most sensitive there. After a few moments, a small shudder let him know that she was ready for more. Hands trailing over her sides, his lips found every inch of her. There was nothing he left untouched. By the time he found her lips again she was panting, her fingers clenching the comforter.

His hand tucked strands of her hair away from her face. Pulling away to watch her, he lifted one of her creamy legs over his hip before sliding into her. The look on her face was both comforting and sexy. She did the cutest thing with her mouth. It would shape into a small ‘o’ as she fought to keep it closed. He would chuckle at her adorableness if she wouldn’t be upset by it.

Relishing in her for another moment he finally began to move inside of her. Slowly. He wanted to make love to her. This was all for her, not for him. He would wait until she wanted more.

Lavender’s hand caressed his cheek and he stopped it, kissing the inside of her palm.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

She smiled. “I love you.”

“I know.”

Giving him a small nod, Seamus pulled her closer, speeding up his thrusts, his eyes falling closed as the feeling of her overtook his senses.

His pulse quickened, thrusts became erratic, and soon he was biting down on her shoulder as he came, followed by her small whimpers. Lavender wasn’t the loud type and he was okay with that. Quiet suited her. Loud was reserved for Parvarti and giggling. Giggling, loud, obnoxious Lavender was not what he wanted in the bedroom. This Lavender was perfect.

“Do you believe me now?”

Lavender nodded and buried her face in his chest.

Seamus stroked her hair, knowing there’d be more proving to her tomorrow and he was okay with that.


End file.
